


Love In An Elevator

by 30toseoul



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Blow Jobs, Elevator Sex, First Time, M/M, Seduction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-04
Updated: 2014-04-04
Packaged: 2018-01-18 03:21:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1413145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/30toseoul/pseuds/30toseoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Sheppard slid both arms around him to unsnap the rear belt catches from his vest, Rodney couldn't pretend ignorance about where it was going any longer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love In An Elevator

**Author's Note:**

> This story was originally posted in the Livejournal **mckay_sheppard** community on 03 July 2006.
> 
>  **Teaser Trailer Vid** : by the incredible **[neverbalance](http://archiveofourown.org/users/neverbalance/pseuds/neverbalance)** can be found **[here.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2112675)**

Sheppard had been giving him strange looks for most of the day. It was starting to freak Rodney out.

It began on the mission, on the disgustingly warm planet that nobody had warned him about because they clearly wanted him to die. Rodney wasn't there for twenty minutes when the heat started to make him dizzy and he stripped off his gear in irritation to get rid of his uniform top.

"What?" he demanded, glaring at Sheppard, who had stopped a few feet away to look back pointedly at him. "It's _roasting_ here, if you didn't notice. Excuse me for being concerned about heat exhaustion, Colonel."

Which normally would have been the cue for Sheppard to mock his very valid health concerns, but that didn't happen. He only stood and waited, watching as Rodney pulled his tac vest back over his t-shirt and shrugged it into a comfortable position.

Things got weirder after that.

It was a stupid, useless mission. The planet was unpopulated, the ruins near the stargate were _not_ any form of Ancient technology, and Rodney took it in turns to complain about the murderous temperatures and the complete idiocy of the previous scouting team.

And Sheppard kept _looking_ at him. Odd, thoughtful looks like Rodney was a piece of computation he was trying to do in his head, and he didn't provide most of his usual dry responses to Rodney's complaints. By the time they headed back to the gate, it had gotten unsettling enough that Rodney almost stopped bitching about the heat, and he looked back suspiciously every time Sheppard gave him another computing glance.

The only good thing about a useless mission was that they didn't need to give Elizabeth a full team debriefing. Rodney headed straight from the control room toward the closest transporter, yanking his tablet from the back of his vest to check his afternoon work lists as he walked.

He was halfway down the hall before he registered the footsteps behind him, and turned to see Sheppard falling into step at his shoulder. "Why aren't you briefing Elizabeth?" he asked, frowning.

"Teyla's doing it," Sheppard said amiably. "Nothing to report, anyway."

"Oh. Right, yes. That was a serious waste of time." He went back to his tablet, paging through some energy modification checklists, and tried to ignore the fact that Sheppard was still watching him.

Sheppard followed him into the transporter.

Rodney was reaching absently to tap the destination for the labs, most of his attention still split between his tablet and Sheppard's weird behavior, and he was _not_ expecting Sheppard to wrap a hand around his extended wrist and pull it away from the panel.

Or to tap the controls that closed the door and took the unit offline.

Or, most especially, to push Rodney firmly into the corner of the transporter and take his tablet away.

"Hey, what the hell?" he yelped, snatching futilely after the tablet, staring at Sheppard in confusion. "Give that back! What are you doing?"

Sheppard was wearing a gleaming, purposeful expression that was the complete opposite of those strange computing looks. He leaned over to put the tablet down, still bracing one hand on Rodney's chest to hold him against the wall. "Calm down."

"No, I won't calm down! I have _work_ to do, and I don't know what you think you're--"

"Rodney." Sheppard was stepping into him, smiling just a little. Both hands on his chest now, then a familiar sound, and Rodney jerked in surprise, looking down to find Sheppard releasing the center buckles on his vest.

"Wha-what are you doing?" he stammered, pressing back in a vain attempt to get some distance from Sheppard. "Colonel? You're acting very--"

"I'm taking your vest off," Sheppard said, as if that were a perfectly reasonable thing to do.

"Yes, but why, _why_ are you taking my--"

And okay, Sheppard was moving his head really extremely close, leaning into him, and Rodney's voice failed as Sheppard's nose brushed the side of his face. "Because it's in the way," he said, low.

"In the way of what?" Rodney asked, and immediately wished he didn't sound so high-pitched. His hands were splayed flat against the wall on either side of him. He knew he ought to be shoving Sheppard away from him, but this was all so incredibly weird--like some kind of trust game or something--that he didn't quite know what to do.

But when Sheppard slid both arms around him to unsnap the rear belt catches from his vest, Rodney couldn't pretend ignorance about where it was going any longer.

"Oh my god, you're possessed again," he babbled, his eyes shut to avoid the sight of how close Sheppard's face was. Which didn't help, because he could still feel Sheppard's _body_ against him. "You're possessed, there was something on that planet that we missed. So, right, whoever you are? You need to stop this right now, because I'm sure you can hear Colonel Sheppard panicking inside his head there. So--so just cut it out, all right? Do we have a deal? Please step away from the nice scientist."

Even with his eyes shut, he could tell that possessed-Sheppard was grinning as he said, "I've heard you described as a lot of things, Rodney, but a _nice_ scientist isn't exactly one of them."

"Of course, you have all of his memories, it makes sense and you--" And that was the last snap on his vest, and Sheppard's breath against his ear, and this was _not good_ , not good at all. "No, no, you have to stop!"

"Rodney, I'm not possessed. It's me."

"I absolutely don't believe you. You wouldn't believe how much I don't believe you."

Sheppard's hands came back to run over his chest, across his shoulders and starting to slide his vest off--and that was finally enough to get Rodney moving. He took his own hands off the wall and tried to shove Sheppard away, tried to twist himself out of the corner, tried very desperately to ignore that it meant pushing himself closer to certain parts of Sheppard than he'd ever been before--

And oh holy fucking hell, there was close and there was _close_ , and the second one was Sheppard blocking Rodney's escape with his _hips_ , and then fitting a thigh between Rodney's legs and _pressing_ and he stopped moving very very quickly, feeling Sheppard's hands firm on his shoulders while Rodney made a noise that was far too much like a squeak.

"Hey," Sheppard said, sounding both amused and exasperated. "I promise, I'm not possessed."

"Then you, you're high on something, or you picked up some kind of infection from that stupid planet," Rodney insisted, and now he was _sweating_ , raising up on his toes to get away from Sheppard's thigh, and it wasn't working because Sheppard was shifting to follow his motion. In about thirty seconds this was going to get really embarrassing. If he kept struggling against Sheppard, it would happen even faster.

Sheppard's fingers were kneading his shoulders slightly, thumbs digging into the muscle near his collarbone. "Why are you so convinced it isn't me?" he murmured.

The hair on the back of Rodney's neck stood up; Sheppard's mouth felt like it was about half an inch from his ear. "Because you're heterosexual," he said, dry-mouthed, trying to lean his head away. "Because I haven't seen any evidence that you're, that you were attracted to men before."

"I haven't been flirting with you for almost two years?"

"Not that I've noticed, no."

"Because you're the most socially observant man in Atlantis." Sheppard sounded _playful_ now. Christ, that was not making it any easier to fight off his erection--which Sheppard had to be feeling against his thigh by now--and neither was the stroking pressure on his shoulder muscles.

"Maybe I'm not, but there is nothing you can say to convince me that you really--that this isn't some crazy alien possession or hypnosis or freaky psychotropic--"

"M4G-293."

"What?"

"You heard me."

"M4G... I don't know what you mean, Colonel. We helped the Athosians to trade for those oxen-things there. Two months ago."

Sheppard shifted again, very slowly, and Rodney bit back a whimper as Sheppard's thigh flexed forward and up, pressing snugly against his cock for one torturous instant before easing away. "You were hard then, too."

"I was?" Rodney's brain seemed to be shorting out a little bit, his eyes falling shut again, but he didn't think anyone could blame him. Right now he was pretty much as hard as he'd ever been in his life, and Sheppard was either going to laugh until he cried or strangle Rodney with his bare hands when he got back to normal.

"Yeah, you were. The thigh holster kind of exaggerated it. Although I wouldn't have seen it if I hadn't been looking, McKay."

Rodney remembered now: the village dancers, the very scantily-clad village dancers, and he defied anyone with the slightest proclivity toward men to keep from reacting to the performance they'd given. "That doesn't mean anything about _your_ orientation," he managed to argue. "Those dancers were gayer than the Village People. You probably just happened to notice that I, um, that I reacted."

"The council leader's son was hitting on you, too."

Rodney's eyes snapped open almost by themselves. He looked narrowly at the opposite wall of the transporter, thinking fast, trying to--all right, yes, this was questionable information. The council leader's 22-year-old son certainly _had_ been hitting on him, but he'd done it so subtlely that it took Rodney himself most of the day to notice it. And not in the frustrating oblivious way that sometimes happened to him; the kid had been so careful that he'd taken hours to make a real move. It wasn't anything that a lifelong straight man would have been very likely to notice.

"You really noticed that?" he asked in a slightly choked voice, because Sheppard's lips were moving against the curve of his ear now, the stubble on his jaw brushing the sensitive skin of Rodney's neck, and he was about two minutes from not caring at _all_ if this was actually voluntary or just bizarre alien-induced gayness.

"Yeah, I noticed," Sheppard mumbled. "Noticed that you looked really fucking hot in your t-shirt today, too. Can you shut up and go with it now? We can't hijack this transporter all day."

"This is a bad idea," Rodney said fervently. His hands didn't seem to agree. They'd gone from pushing flat against the safe exterior of Sheppard's vest to curling inside the edges, the backs of his fingers snugged against the heat of Sheppard's chest. "This is an incredibly bad idea. None of that evidence is conclusive. You could... could still be drugged or possessed and just... exceptionately good at twisting your own memories, Colonel..."

It was getting hard to breathe. Sheppard had shifted his own hands down and was rubbing slow circles over Rodney's nipples with his palms. He wanted to arch into it.

"Guess I could be," Sheppard admitted, and the thoughtful rumble of his voice went directly from Rodney's ear to his straining erection. "On the other hand, you haven't called for help yet."

He hadn't. He was still wearing his headset, and Sheppard hadn't tried to remove it or pinned his hands to keep him from reaching for it. Sheppard hadn't done anything to _forcefully_ stop him from escaping, actually. He was trapped in this corner due to nothing but his own body's reaction to Sheppard (which was going to be embarrassing beyond belief if this did turn out to be alien-induced gayness, of course) but Rodney had to admit, as Sheppard's palms made another pass over his nipples, that the man might be right.

Maybe Rodney really hadn't allowed himself to see the two years of flirting until now.

He took a deep, careful breath and tried to block out the feeling of Sheppard's mouth tracing the skin under his ear. Tried very hard not to listen to the small, dark, low-down part of his mind whispering that if this was his only chance to have Sheppard, he should avoid any further logical thought and just go with it.

Rodney took one hand off Sheppard's vest and reached for his headset, slowly. "McKay to Weir," he said, hoping his voice didn't sound too hoarse.

When Elizabeth answered, he felt Sheppard sigh against his neck and start to pull away.

 _That's enough data for me,_ he thought triumphantly, yanking Sheppard back against him as he said something inane to Elizabeth about changing a meeting time, then signed off and tossed his headset into a corner.

Sheppard was smiling when Rodney turned, his eyes half-lidded and watching Rodney's mouth intently, and Rodney swallowed and muttered, "This had better be real," before he threaded his hand back into Sheppard's vest and kissed him.

It wasn't what he expected. He'd thought Sheppard would go at him hard, thought he'd be fast and aggressive; he hadn't expected Sheppard's lips wandering across his own with lazy thoroughness, kissing and moving away, the scrape of Sheppard's beard stubble against each side of his jaw in turn, their breath mingling every time Sheppard broke a kiss and moved in for another at a different angle.

It was slow, teasing experimentation, and the hottest thing Rodney could ever remember. He was shuddering with arousal by the time he reached up to hold Sheppard's head still, working Sheppard's mouth open with a low groan. He felt like he'd been waiting to taste this for half his life.

He couldn't stop making noise as Sheppard's tongue moved against his, and it turned carnal fast; Sheppard shoved at him, grinding his own erection against Rodney's nearly to the point of pain, and Rodney felt a rush of satisfaction when Sheppard yanked his mouth free, breathing hard. "Here, come on--" he said against Rodney's cheek, and pushed his arms down to slide the tac vest off his shoulders. "I wanted to touch you all day," he muttered as he shoved both hands under Rodney's shirt, callused fingers rubbing greedily across his skin, digging and clenching at his back and shoulders.

Sheppard smelled like sweat and sunscreen and a hint of soap along his jaw, and Rodney wanted to _bite_ him. He couldn't, though. Sheppard was still in full gear; he couldn't leave any marks that would show, and it would take more coordination that he probably possessed right now to release all of those snaps and catches. He redirected his aggravation into another kiss, fingers buried in Sheppard's hair while his thumbs urged Sheppard's mouth open again, tilted his head the way Rodney wanted it.

It was good-- _jesus_ , it was good, he felt like he could kiss Sheppard for hours, for days--but when Sheppard's fingers dragged over his nipples and _twisted_ , it suddenly wasn't enough. He wanted more, and he hissed, "Dammit, I want to touch you too," and fought for enough space between them to fumble at Sheppard's belt.

"Not complaining," Sheppard said in a tight voice, shifting back to let Rodney open his pants.

He had an utterly surreal moment when he gripped Sheppard's cock, red and already dripping with precome, because he couldn't believe they were finally doing this. Sheppard's breath was coming in quick gusts against the side of his face. He wanted to look up, wanted to _see_ what he was doing to Sheppard, see if he was biting his lip and whether his eyes were open or closed, but the brand-new sight of his own hand stroking Sheppard's cock wasn't a view that he wanted to miss either.

He was so busy looking that he wasn't prepared at all when Sheppard flinched after less than a minute and made a sharp, huffing sound like he'd been punched in the chest, and then he was spilling over Rodney's hand, his hips jerking, turning blindly to press his forehead against Rodney's temple.

Rodney's hand had frozen in surprise. Sheppard made a plaintive noise, and he said hastily, "Yes, okay, yes, sorry," and kept stroking, easing Sheppard through the end of his orgasm. He rubbed his other hand over Sheppard's neck in warm circles, and damn if he wasn't halfway ready to come himself as he felt Sheppard shivering against him.

They were both going to have come streaked on their uniforms, but Rodney couldn't bring himself to care very much. He drew his thumb over the wet head of Sheppard's cock and felt him arch one last time before relaxing.

"Jesus," Sheppard said, and Rodney turned to see him grinning sheepishly, his face flushed and the tips of his ears bright red. "Didn't see that coming."

Rodney felt the corners of his mouth twisting up smugly; he could hear it in his voice as he wiped his hand on the inside of Sheppard's pants and said, "Don't worry, I'll take the hair-trigger as a compliment, Colonel."

"Shut up, McKay," came the growl against his mouth before Sheppard kissed him hard again, his hands working at Rodney's belt, then the buttons flicking open so quickly that Rodney had time for some brief suspicion about Sheppard's degree of practice at opening other men's uniforms, but then Sheppard was dropping down on one knee and he didn't have room for extra thoughts.

"Oh fuck, yes," he groaned, dropping his head to watch Sheppard tugging his pants and underwear down just enough to release his cock. The tangle of belt and thigh holster kept them from falling farther, but that didn't matter; Sheppard had enough room to work. The sight of him on one knee ( _firing position_ , Rodney thought wildly) and leaning forward, darting his tongue out to wet his lips, was almost enough to make Rodney lose it right away. The wicked glance that Sheppard flicked up: it said without a doubt that Sheppard planned to do his best to make Rodney come as fast as he had.

It didn't take very long.

The slick heat of Sheppard's mouth was bad enough, and the twisting pressure of his hand moving along the shaft, but it was the view that had Rodney fighting desperately against his orgasm: Sheppard's lips stretched tight around Rodney's cock, the dark smudges of his eyelashes against his cheeks, the line of his jaw flexing and his cheeks hollowing as he sucked -- Rodney thought he might have held out for fifteen or twenty seconds longer than Sheppard had, but he lost track of the numbers when he tipped over and came so hard that his knees threatened to give out, hearing himself chanting, "Yes, oh yes, jesus yes," and watching almost from a distance as Sheppard swallowed it all down.

He was still shaking from the aftershocks when Sheppard rose, practically bounced to his feet, licking his lips, and kissed Rodney long enough that he could taste himself in Sheppard's mouth. "I'll take it as a compliment too," he announced brightly.

"Oh god, shut _up_ ," Rodney groaned, because wasn't it just predictable that they were turning sex into a competition. He let himself kiss back for a long minute, then shook free and ordered, "Button up, Colonel, we're going to the infirmary."

"What?" Sheppard said, exasperated again. "Rodney, I told you--"

"Yes, I know, you're not possessed or drugged, but I'm waiting for a full confirmation scan before we do that again, _John_ ," he said pointedly, and waited until Sheppard's face relaxed into surprised pleasure before he grinned back.

And he also should've expected Sheppard to wait until they were back together to drawl, "Hope we can do it a little longer, next time," and then escape out the transporter door before Rodney could hit him.


End file.
